The Gentleman Prefers The Brunette
by Tigereye77
Summary: When Garcia and JJ plot to push Hotch and Emily together at the Bureau Halloween Party, things take a turn no one is expecting. Written for the Masquerade Challenge. Two-shot.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: This is my contribution to the Halloween Masquerade Challenge. My pairing was Hotch/Prentiss and my assigned costume was the Bride of Frankenstein. I only had to make sure that the costume appeared somewhere in the story and that Hotch and Emily were the main characters. This is a two-shot and there's a healthy dosage of the entire team in the first part, with sprinklings of Hotch and Emily. They play a more prominent role in part two. Hope you enjoy!**

Aaron Hotchner resisted the urge to sigh and roll his eyes as yet another slightly, maybe more than slightly, inebriated agent jumped unsteadily from behind a desk, which had done nothing to hide the would be prankster, to yell, "Boo!"

Hotch simply looked at the offending agent, dressed this time as a Teletubby, and moved on. The drunken agent giggled and scurried back behind his "hiding" place to leap out again at the next passerby.

He really hated these office holiday parties. Normally, steady, reliable agents got drunk and made complete asses of themselves; wandering hands, both male and female, became weapons of sexual harassment suits; and for weeks afterwards, agents who had worked well together before the party were suddenly uncomfortable and awkward around each other as they dealt with repercussions of a drunken one night stand with a colleague.

Fortunately, Hotch never had to worry about his team. None of them ever got drunk at these events and for the most part, aside from Reid and Garcia, both of whom loved Halloween, his agents hated the costume party. Prentiss and JJ tolerated it, but Morgan, Rossi and himself never dressed up. Morgan, in fact, hated the holiday and the party with an even greater fury than Hotch.

At the moment, he could see his two Halloween-loathing colleagues over by the refreshment table, looking suspiciously at a display of cake lollipops.

"A cupcake I get," Hotch heard Rossi saying as he walked up to the two men. "But a cake lollipop? There's something definitely wrong about that." He was holding a little ghost cake pop and examining it with all the intensity he would a suspect in interrogation.

"Like I said, Halloween brings out the freak in everybody," Morgan sniffed as he tentatively took a bite out of a pumpkin pop. He made a grimace, but politely swallowed the piece in his mouth. However, he threw the rest of the dessert into a nearby trash can. "Little greasy tasting. Dry and hard cake."

Hearing Morgan's words, Rossi warily put his own cake pop back on the table. "And that is why these things are so wrong," the gourmand sniffed. "It takes a very seasoned and talented baker to get the proportions right." He turned his head, hearing Hotch's approach and nodded at the younger man. "Aaron. Where's your costume?" Dave teased.

Hotchner rolled his eyes this time and shot back at his old friend, "I can ask you the same thing."

Without missing a beat, Rossi picked up a cowboy had that had been lying on the table and said in a deadpan voice, "Yippee, kai-yah-yeah."

Morgan chuckled as Hotch let out a snort that passed for a laugh. He looked inquiringly at Morgan who raised his eyebrow at his Unit Chief.

"I don't do costumes," the impossibly chiseled agent replied flatly. "As Reid will tell you, Halloween is all about being somebody you aren't, and there is no reason in the world I would want to be anyone else but me."

"Why pretend to be someone else when you're a perfect god already?" a voice behind them called out.

They turned to greet Garcia and were momentarily stunned when they saw her.

Each man had prepared themselves for some over-the-top costume from their flamboyant tech analyst, but when they saw her, they were surprised by her choice. For Garcia, it was pretty sedate. She was clad in a large, voluminous ball gown made of yards and yards of cream tulle and chiffon. Sequins and beads winked brightly on the dress itself and were mirrored in the high crown she wore on her blonde head. She held a wand that ended in a large star with streamers tied underneath it.

Morgan tilted his head to the side as he looked at her. "Glinda the Good Witch?" He knew Garcia had been on a "Wizard of Oz" kick.

"Correctamundo, my handsome holiday party pooper," Garcia replied.

"It's only Halloween I've got issues with, Baby Girl," Morgan responded.

"Why Glinda?" Rossi asked.

The woman beamed at them. "I thought this year I should be spreading around a little magic for my favorite crime fighters."

The men looked at each other warily. "Garcia," Hotch said in a slightly severe tone. "You will not be spiking the punch."

Garcia snorted in derision. "Please. That type of 'magic' is for mere mortals." An evil gleam came into her eyes. "I can actually work real magic."

"Magic? Did someone say magic?" an eager voice made them look up as Reid came hurrying towards them, JJ just a few steps behind.

Reid was wearing a long grey caped overcoat and a deerstalker hat, a pipe was clutched in one, bony hand. JJ wore a sweet blue and white shepherdess costume complete with frilled cap and white crook.

"Sherlock Holmes, I presume?" Rossi asked the young genius in amusement.

Reid's head bobbed up and down. "It wasn't my first choice, but I couldn't decide on which incarnation of Dr. Who I wanted to be. Should I go with the original, William Hartnell, or maybe someone more recent like David Tennant's Dr. Who since he might be more familiar to people today?"

"Sweetie, I think you made the right choice," Garcia said patting Reid's arm and looking at the others with a pointed look that said, 'No matter which Dr. Who he picked, likely no one would have gotten it.'

"Shepherdess or Little Miss Muffett?" Hotch asked JJ.

The blonde shrugged. "Take your pick. I just had to make sure Henry and I had related costumes since I'm taking him out in an hour to go trick or treating. He's dressed as a lamb this year."

"Awwww, the little lamb chop! Remember to take lots of pictures!" Garcia gushed.

"As if I wasn't going to!" JJ huffed out.

Hotch glanced around the room. "Has anyone seen Prentiss?"

JJ and Garcia exchanged knowing looks. Since the other woman's return to the BAU, Hotch had been keeping closer tabs on the brunette that went beyond supervisor or even friendship concern. Neither woman had missed the intense looks he had sent Emily's way nor how his voice seemed to soften just a touch when he was speaking to her, the few times those two actually spoke to each other. The other thing JJ and Garcia had noticed was that their friend seemed to be avoiding their supervisor like the plague. They would have put it off as Emily trying to ease back into her life after her ordeal yet she seemed to have no problems interacting with the rest of the team.

The two women knew that Emily's behavior did not go unnoticed. Besides the intense looks Hotch had been giving her, they also detected flashes of confusion in his eyes when he watched Emily laughing and talking with the other men, and seeking them out while not doing the same with him. They knew Hotch was as bewildered by her behavior as they were. Considering the lengths Hotch had gone to protect Emily, forcing several agencies to conspire and carry out her fake death, making sure anyone's anger would be focused on him, they thought the two would be a little friendlier. But Hotch and Emily's relationship was as cool as it was when she first joined the team, only this time, Emily was doing the freezing out.

But despite Hotch's confusion and concern, the team leader refused to approach Emily. He was likely waiting for her to make the first move, but at this rate, that wasn't going to happen in this decade. Garcia decided to hurry things along.

When Garcia explained her plan to JJ, the former media liaison stared at the other woman in silent disbelief. JJ's first instinct had been to vehemently shoot down the plan, but the more Garcia explained it as she kept piling JJ with mojitos, the more it made sense to JJ's increasingly drunken brain until the rookie profiler turned inebriated conspirator had loudly agreed, "That's a GENIUS plan!" She then proceeded to leap up on a table at the bar they were at and belt out an off-key rendition "The Greatest Love of All". All of which Garcia had caught on tape.

JJ had to admit though, as the day of the Halloween party slowly approached, she became more excited about the plan and thought, in some crazy way, it might just work. At least, it would probably get Emily and Hotch talking again, though if they ever found out that she and Garcia had orchestrated things, JJ knew she and her fellow conspirator would be in for a world of pain.

"She should be here any minute," JJ replied calmly.

"Yes, she was just putting the finishing touches on her costume," Garcia replied.

Reid stared at her. "Emily is dressing up? She never wears a costume for this party."

Garcia grinned evilly. "She agreed to it this year."

Hotch eyed the tech analyst suspiciously. "Garcia…"

Garcia the Tech Goddess shrugged. "She did it as a favor to me." She didn't add that she played the, "You faked your death and I mourned you for months, so the least you could do is this one lousy favor for me" card. She hadn't done that before, but she quashed her own feelings of guilt knowing that it was for the better good: l'amour.

"So you know what she's coming as?" Morgan asked, an amused glint in his eye. Sometimes people forgot that behind his pretty face was a sharp profiler. His Baby Girl and JJ were up to something and as long as he wasn't the intended victim of their plot, he was happy to sit back and watch.

"Of course, I picked out the costume," Garcia replied airily.

"Shall we guess?" Rossi asked in amusement, also noticing the two women's barely concealed excitement. "I'm going to say…Dorothy from the Wizard of Oz to go with your Glinda costume."

Garcia shook her head with a smile. "Nope, not that."

"Princess Leia in the slave girl outfit," Reid blurted out.

Everyone turned to look at Reid in surprise. He turned bright red.

"Spence, should we be worried that was something you imagined seeing Emily dressed in?" JJ asked doubtfully. Out of the corner of her eye she noticed Hotch scowling darkly at the young man.

JJ wasn't the only one who noticed the look as Rossi looked on in amusement. As Reid tried to stammer an explanation, Rossi smoothly defused the situation by saying, "It's because we know she would look magnificent in the outfit, right Reid? I mean, we all know Emily can carry it off."

Hotch's frown swung towards Rossi, but the older man had long since become immune to the famous Hotchner glare and simply took a sip of his spiked punch.

Morgan, also catching some of the undercurrents among the group sent Hotch an evil look and added his guess to the pile, "I know, you got her to come as Lady Godiva." He wiggled his eyebrows naughtily at Garcia and noticed the look on Hotch's face darken even more.

Garcia playfully swatted Morgan's arm with her wand. "Stop that! It's a very nice costume and I think we're all in for a very wonderful surprise. I know what it is, but even I haven't seen her in it."

"So not animal, vegetable or mineral?" Rossi teased.

Garcia shook her head with a smile. "Nope, we haven't seen Emily like this before." She tilted her head and frowned at the men. "You know, because she's such a kick ass agent, I think you guys sometimes forget she's a woman."

"Hey, I don't," Morgan protested, holding his hands up defensively. "I always know Prentiss is one hot babe." Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Hotch frowning at him and the younger man couldn't resist the urge to poke the bear a little. "Yes sirreeeeeee," he drawled out with an appreciative grin. "Even when she hides everything underneath those suits and jackets, that's one smokin' body under there."

"I do not think it's appropriate to be speaking about a lady, especially our team mate in such a way," Hotch's cold voice snapped out.

JJ and Garcia exchanged pointed looks while Rossi gave Morgan one that said, _You're either very brave or very dumb._

"I agree," Reid said in a prim voice, giving Morgan a sharp look.

"Hey kid, I wasn't the one who imagined Emily in Princess Leia's slave girl outfit."

Reid's face turned bright red again and to hide his embarrassment he grabbed a cake pop and bit into it. His eyes lit up in appreciation and he declared, "Hey! These are good!"

The conversation then switched to Reid's lack of taste buds as Rossi ranted on about how people shouldn't be subjected to such bad food. Everyone's preoccupation with the refreshments allowed Hotch a few moments to himself as he wondered what Emily's costume could be.

Hotch's curiosity was now piqued by Garcia's intriguing comments. Reid and Morgan's guesses also conjured up some very nice mental images for him. However, those thoughts were probably best left to when he was alone later that night and not at a party filled with FBI agents. It was just two more fantasy images of the lovely brunette that he could add to his mental collection that had been growing larger and larger with each passing day.

"And speaking of the woman in question," JJ said softly, her eyes on the doorway.

Hotch and the others turned to look in that direction. At first, Hotch was wondering why Garcia would be excited about Emily dressing up as the Bride of Frankenstein, but then he realized that wasn't Emily. Prentiss was actually right behind the Bride. Hotch blinked his eyes, not sure if he was mistaking the blonde bombshell for his brunette agent.

Emily Prentiss was dressed as THE Blonde Bombshell, Marilyn Monroe. She wore a blonde wig and the iconic white halter dress that Monroe had made famous in _The Seven Year Itch_. White, peep-toe high heels, a sparkling rhinestone bracelet, red lipsticked lips, a fake mole on her check and extra mascara on her insanely long and thick eyelashes completed the look. They watched Emily enter the room and look around, an uncomfortable expression on her face.

Rossi let out a low wolf whistle and Morgan grunted in appreciative agreement. Hotch's head snapped around to glare at both of them, his eyes narrowed in territorial jealousy. JJ and Garcia grinned at each other, quietly exchanged high fives, but with their hands down low.

"Wow," Reid said. "I never thought we'd ever see Emily as a blonde, but it looks good on her. She makes a great Marilyn Monroe."

"She's got the rack for it," Garcia agreed.

"How on Earth did you get her to agree to wear that?" Rossi asked the tech analyst.

"Oh, I just asked," she replied. "Just thought she needed to do something different this Halloween." She sent a sly look at Hotch who was still watching Emily. "And that this would likely have most of the male agents here falling at her feet."

And it did indeed. Emily Prentiss was already sought after by quite a few male agents at the Bureau. However, dressed now as Marilyn Monore, exposing more skin than she ever had before, the men were beginning to salivate and several of them were converging on her in a hungry pack.

Hotch visibly tensed when he saw this happening. JJ and Penelope were feeling fairly satisfied with themselves, having elicited the desired reaction in the unit leader: jealousy. They were especially gratified when he swore and bolted from them to hurry to Emily. The two women were exchanging triumphant looks when they heard Rossi swear too.

"Shit," the older profiler spat out, a note of concern in his voice.

"What? What's wrong?" JJ asked in confusion. She looked at Rossi who was focused on the little drama unfolding across the room as Hotch hurried over to where a group of men had surrounded Emily and were now crowding her into a corner. JJ saw a slight look of panic in her friend's face and an uneasy feeling descended upon her.

"Emily's been on high alert for the last few months when she was hiding out from Doyle," Rossi explained. "She hasn't had time to fully decompress."

"And she's been skittish about being in crowds," Morgan added as he started to take a few steps forward, ready to start pushing the men around away from her to give her some space. "They're freaking her out."

"Should we go help?" Reid asked as he too watched them.

"No," Rossi said and he began to relax again. "Hotch is there now."

Hotch had reached the group and effectively cut a swathed through them to stand next to Emily's side. One glare sent a few of the men scattering. He said a few words that had a few more slinking off. Two men were either too drunk to realize how angry Hotch was, or they had a death wish. These men Hotch ignored altogether and with a hand on Emily's back, he led her away.

Garcia sighed. "Well, it wasn't exactly what we were going for, but mission accomplished all the same."

Rossi stared at her. "What? What mission? You mean you planned all this?" A note of anger had entered his voice. "Why did you want to put Emily into that type of situation?"

"Rossi, back off," Morgan said, his protective instinct where Garcia was concerned automatically switching on. "I'm sure that wasn't what Penelope had planned."

"Of course not!" the tech analyst said defensively. "I would never try to make Em feel uncomfortable. I didn't know she was feeling nervous about being in crowds and I didn't think those guys would just surround her like that."

"Then what exactly was your plan?" Rossi pressed, still not happy about what was going on.

JJ sighed. "I was in on it too," she admitted. "We've noticed the one person Emily hasn't seemed to re-connect with since she's been back is Hotch and we also noticed he's been feeling a little hurt by that, but he wasn't going to say anything to her. You know his 'give her space and time' excuse. We thought if Em got all dolled up he would approach her if only because he didn't want any other guy being around her."

The three men looked at them in disbelief.

"You're joking," Morgan asked. "You guys think making Hotch jealous was a good plan?"

"Why would Hotch be jealous?" Reid asked.

Four pairs of eyes regarded him incredulously.

"What?" Reid squawked. "What am I missing?"

Rossi shook his head, ignoring the young genius' questions and watched as Hotch and Emily left the party. He assumed his friend was taking her some place private where she could gather herself together. While he greatly disapproved of their methods, Rossi had to admit, if this pushed Hotch and Emily closer together, that might not be a bad thing for either of them or the rest of the team. He just hoped Emily was ready for it and if she wasn't, that Hotch would be patient with her.

* * *

><p><strong>AN 2: I got the idea for Emily to dress up as Marilyn Monroe when I saw a picture of Paget in a blonde wig. Plus in that white dress, she would be the complete opposite of how the team and the entire Bureau typically see her. And of course the title comes from a riff on Monroe's movie, "Gentlemen Prefer Blondes".**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: And here is part two of my Halloween Masquerade Challenge story. Hope folks have enjoyed it. It is a bit fluffier and romantic than what I typically write, but it's also shorter! If you have a chance, please let me know what you think. Thanks for reading!**

With a firm, but gentle hand on her back, Hotch steered Emily out of the party and back to the BAU offices two floors below. The bullpen was deserted, but he escorted her up to his office. He sat her down on the couch while he closed the door in case anyone did wander into the space below. Concerned, he swung one of the chairs around so he could face her when he sat down.

"Emily?" he inquired.

She was looking down at her lap so all he could see was the top of the blonde wig she wore. Hotch was still thrown by the hair color change, but he dismissed it, more concerned about Emily's mental and emotional state than her hair. He couldn't see her face, but he saw her hands clenched in fists and she was breathing quickly. Hotch reached out to touch her knee. She jerked back, startling him and he hastily withdrew his hand.

"Sorry," she apologized. He could see she was trying to get herself under control, the slight look of panic still on her face.

"Just take a moment," he quietly told her. "Take a few deep breaths."

She did as he suggested, inhaling deeply and then slowly letting out her breath. After repeating the action a few times, Emily felt her heart rate slow and embarrassment set in. She had been sitting on the edge of the couch, but suddenly scooted back, creating distance between them. Hotch, recognizing what she was doing and he also leaned back in his chair, but sighed internally as he saw Emily's walls go back up.

"Thank you," she murmured, her head still bent down.

Hotch started to nod, but realized she couldn't see him so he simply replied, "You're welcome." Silence fell between them again and stretched out for a minute or two. He finally asked, "You want to talk about what happened?"

She looked up then and he fought to keep his expression neutral. He had been intent on getting her out of the party and away from the pack of men that were causing her to have a slow meltdown that he hadn't paid much attention to what she looked like. With the blonde hair and heavier make-up, the Monroe look on Emily was startling for Hotch. She still looked beautiful. He didn't think she could ever not look lovely. But this wasn't Emily. He kept these thoughts to himself and sat there, waiting for her to talk to him.

"It was nothing. Just a momentary second of panic when they suddenly moved in on me like that. Started backing me into a corner." She licked her lips nervously.

"It's a frightening position for anyone," Hotch replied in a reassuring tone. "But you've also been having trouble being in crowds too."

A flash of defiance came into her eyes. "It doesn't affect my performance in the field, Hotch."

He quelled a noise of frustration. "It's not your performance as an agent I'm worried about, Emily. I worry about _you_. Dammit, you didn't even take any time off before you came back to work. You haven't had time to ease back into things."

"I don't need time to 'ease back into things', Hotch," she said in an irritated tone. "And I passed my psyche eval just fine."

He snorted. "And we both know that you can fake your way out of that one. All of us can."

She gave him a hard, cool stare. "If you're so worried, why haven't you pulled me from field work? Why even let me back onto the team at all if you think I'm not ready? You've never had problems benching me before when you think my judgment has been 'compromised'."

It's a deliberate jab at their history and he saw it for what it was: deflection. She was trying to push the conversation as far from what had happened at the party by striking at something else, this time a piece of their history. It was a mistake on many levels. First he knew exactly what she was doing, but also it was because of this history that he was not going to let go of the issue.

Emily was the only person on his team with whom he had a rocky start, which was odd since she technically is the person he's known the longest. Suspicion, doubts, questions were the persistent theme in her first year with the team. Then came her sacrifice to protect him from Strauss' machinations. From that point on he knew there could never be any doubts about Emily Prentiss' loyalty and integrity. And from that point on, he stated to know what a truly amazing woman she was. He knew she was a good agent, a great one. You had to be to make it in the BAU and especially on his team. But in that initial period when she first joined his team, against his will, he had closed his eyes to the qualities that made her a great person. Her compassion, her gentleness, her innate ability soothe and comfort everyone on his team and that endless ability to empathize with the most broken of creatures. Emily had become the keystone for his team and without realizing it, she had become it for his life too.

Had they been two different people it might have developed into something more much earlier, but they held them back, he held back. So they had remained friends, confidants. Then everything had gone to Hell when Foyet came roaring back into his life. She was still there, lending him support that he had resisted, hadn't wanted, until he realized after the fact that it was her support that got him through those initial dark days, first after Foyet's attack on him and then after Haley's murder. He was in a stupor during those times, merely existing because he needed to for Jack's sake. But Emily was always there, in the periphery of his vision making things easier for him whether it was finishing a report, fielding a call or simply slipping in a treat for Jack into his briefcase that would make the little boy feel so much better and Hotch a hero in his son's eyes. All the team had helped, but it was usually around work. It was Emily who had thought of his personal life, of Jack.

Then, just when he was waking up from his grief-induced stupor, it was her turn to withdraw, to close herself off. It had puzzled him but work had kept him distracted and he admitted that he lacked Emily's bravery to probe further, perhaps afraid of the answer she might have given him, "Hey, you seem to be doing better, no more need for me to hold your hand." He was afraid that all that she had done was simply nothing more than what a friend would do, not as someone who wanted to be something more. He was afraid she didn't share his hidden, but growing feelings.

So Hotch had taken the easy way out and allowed the distance to grow between them. It would be a decision he would bitterly regret to the end of his days. He now realized the cause for her distance was Ian Doyle. Just as she did with Strauss, Emily isolated herself to protect the team, to protect him and he simply let her because he was too much of a coward to push and demand to know what was wrong and it had nearly cost Emily her life.

His days of acting the coward were over. She was never going to hide from him again even if he had to badger the answer out of her. He would pursue the problem with the same determination, focus and intensity he had when chasing an UNSUB.

She was still looking at him with that detached, cool expression. His face darkened slightly. "Emily, I'm not asking as your supervisor, I'm asking as your friend. What happened out there tonight? And I want the truth. You know I won't stop until I get it."

Her nostrils flared in irritation and exasperation. She turned her head to look away, to not meet his eyes, but Hotch was not to be deterred. He reached out to gently cup her chin and turned her face back to him.

"You know you can trust me," he said quietly.

Every instinct in Emily was telling her to just bolt, get out of there and the probing, insistent eyes of Aaron Hotchner, but she saw something else in those eyes beyond the usual determination and intensity. She so a softness and a sadness. She hesitated, another instinct within her wanting to make the sadness disappear. Her compassion warred with her basic flight instinct. She sat there, conflicted as to what to do.

"Please," he said softly.

That one word tipped the scale towards compassion. Not only did she need this cathartic discussion, but she realized he needed it too. She knew Hotch had personally conducted the grief assessments for the entire team, forced to listen to how they dealt with her "death", knowing one word from him would have lifted that grief from people he loved. How had he dealt with everything? Who did he have to talk to? JJ obviously, but Emily knew from the woman herself that aside from trying to get a status report on Emily's situation, Hotch never shared anything of what he was feeling or going through with their blonde friend. Of course the others would ask him how he was, but he couldn't tell them the truth.

Emily sighed and removed her chin from Hotch's grasp. She stared off into space for several minutes as Hotch waited patiently for her to speak.

"All those months, being alone, I didn't know who to trust," she began. "The only thing I could do was to rely on myself." She gave him a wan smile. "It was a recipe for paranoia."

Hotch nodded understandingly, having been there before himself. He never knew when Foyet would suddenly leap out at him. Emily's situation was much worse. Doyle had minions. Every stranger was a potential threat. And with no back-up, she had to be on constant alert.

"And you haven't had time to readjust when you jumped right back into your job here." Hotch looked at her curiously. "You only took about three days and that was spent with paperwork, getting an apartment, no time to really re-adjust to a life not spent constantly looking over your shoulder. Why didn't you take the time?"

"I thought it would be easier to dive into things as though they hadn't changed. To try to live my life like it was as quickly as possible." Her mouth twisted into a crooked grin. "It didn't quite turn out that way."

She gave a short, humorless laugh. Abruptly, she stood up and moved over to the window that looked out over the bullpen. The blinds were open and the single lamp burning in Hotch's office could not compete with the over head lights in the empty bullpen. She stood next to the window, a beacon of radiance in her white dress, blonde wig and alabaster skin. The shadows the blinds cast on her marred the perfection of her luminosity. Hotch was struck by how properly it all seemed to sum up Emily, lightness marred by darkness that touched her.

"You're the only one who asks me about my time away," Emily said as she stared sightlessly out at the empty desks down below. "Everyone else either doesn't want to hear or are afraid to ask."

"I think it's the later," Hotch replied as he too stood up and joined her at the window. "They don't want to push you."

"Unlike you."

He let out a soft snort that was a laugh. "Unlike me."

"It's why I've been avoiding you."

He looked at her in surprise and saw her give him a small grin.

"I knew you wouldn't let it go." She made a small gesture to indicate their surroundings. "Case in point."

Now he understood why it felt like she had been freezing him out since her return. She was doing what she had done when she first found out about Doyle, avoiding him and his probing questions. She was right. The others would have let her have her privacy, but he wouldn't. He would have pestered her until he found out what was causing her distress.

"I thought I had done something to upset you or made you angry," Hotch admitted.

She gave him a puzzled frown and tilted her head to one side. "Why would you think that?"

"You seemed to be acting normally with everyone else, but you were avoiding me." Hotch shrugged. "It seemed like you didn't want to be around me. I thought you resented me for forcing you into faking your death."

He watched as Emily's face shifted into a look of concern. She took a step towards him and gently grasped his arm.

"Oh, no, Hotch," she breathed out. "I wasn't angry or resentful at all. I'm grateful for what you did. JJ told me everything you did for me in making the arrangements and forcing everyone involved to agree to the plan." She shook her head. "I can tell the others to leave me alone. I can fool them, bluff them. But I knew I could never do that with you." She looked him straight in the eye. "You know me too well."

Hotch felt his heart do a small leap hearing her words and he too took a step towards her. They were only a few inches apart and her hand was still on his arm. With his other hand, he covered hers.

"I think you know me better than anyone else does too."

Something charged and exciting passed between them. They were going further than they had ever been before in their relationship. It was both scary and exciting, but they both still felt hesitant about taking that next step. If they did, a lot of things would change, and not just for them. Both their lives were so intertwined with others that any changes would cause ripples, both large and small in other people's lives.

But Hotch was tired of waiting, of the status quo. His inaction seven months ago nearly led to Emily's death and it did lead to his separation from her. He knew what it was like not to have her in his life and it was bleak and barren. He would not go through that again. He pulled her towards him and wrapped his arms around her.

Emily let out a small squeak of surprise. "Hotch?" she asked as she looked up at him with wide-eyes.

One hand came up to cup her cheek and he slowly lowered his head down to hers until his lips touched her mouth. It was a soft, gentle kiss. He was giving Emily a chance to pull away, to show him that what he had been feeling for a long time was not one-sided and that she missed him as much as he missed her when she was in Paris. He was telling her he wanted to go further, to see what could be between them because he didn't want to spend a life filled with regrets and what-might-have-been's. He was telling her with that kiss that he wanted her and he hoped she wanted him too.

She was stunned by his actions and for a moment, she didn't react at all. Emily then whimpered and her arms came up to wrap around his neck as she began to kiss him back. Hotch had his answer and if he could, he would have smiled, but he was too intent on deepening the kiss. His tongue lightly traced the seam of her lips, asking for entrance which she eagerly granted. He slanted his mouth over hers, plunging his tongue into her mouth to duel with hers as he pulled her even closer to him.

The need for air was the only thing to force them to break the kiss. When Hotch pulled back and looked down into Emily's face, he smiled. Her eyes were closed, her cheeks were flushed and her lips were swollen. When her eyelids fluttered open, he saw her gazing back at him with starry eyes.

"Wha-?" she managed to get out. She cleared her throat. "What happens now?"

"I don't know about you," Hotch growled out. "But I'd like another kiss." He bent his head again to do exactly that and Emily eagerly agreed.

After a few minutes, and several air-deprived kisses, they were both panting, flushed and eager to go beyond kissing and a little groping (Emily was a little surprised at how much Hotch's hands seemed to wander). Her arms wrapped around his neck, Emily's head was bent slight downwards as Hotch's lips pressed against her forehead, both of them trying to catch their breath.

"So," she began, but then stopped.

"So?"

"Where do we go from here?" She tilted her head upwards, causing him to pull back from her a little. "This really kinda changes things between us."

"In a good or bad way?" He tilted his head to one side, looking inquiringly at her.

"I'm not sure," she replied honestly. "It's going to impact the team a lot. What if they have issues with us being together?"

He had to grin when she used the word "us" to describe them. That was how he was seeing them from this moment forward, an "us", a unit, together and inseparable. "I think they'll be okay with it."

Her furrowed brow indicated she wasn't convinced. "Are you sure?"

"Are you having doubts about us? Do you want to not pursue this?" Hotch held his breath waiting for her answer.

She looked into his eyes and saw anxiety and a touch of fear in there, emotions she cannot ever recall being there before. She smiled reassuringly at him and kissed him lightly on the lips. "No. I don't have any doubts about us and I do want to see where this takes us." She sighed. "It's just not going to be easy."

Hotch snorted lightly. "When have we ever had easy?"

Emily's soft laugh was cut off by another breath-robbing kiss. When he pulled away, her eyes fluttered open and she saw him frowning at her. Surprised, she asked him warily, "What's wrong?"

He didn't reply, but simply plucked off her blonde wig. Emily yelped in surprise and her hands automatically flew to her head. "Hotch!"

"It looked wrong," he responded as he tossed the wig to the side. He began to pluck out the bobby pins that had held her hair up to accommodate the wig. When Emily's hair was completely loose and free, he ran his fingers through the dark tresses, mussing up her hair. He smiled down at her. "Better. Now you look like my Emily."

She smiled shyly at him hearing the words "my Emily" from him sent her heart skipping with joy. "I thought gentlemen preferred blondes?" she teased.

He grinned at her and pulled her close until they were only centimeters apart. "This gentleman prefers the brunette." He bent his head and kissed her gently.

"Mission accomplished!" Garcia squealed quietly as she high fived JJ from down in the bullpen.

"Wow!" JJ breathed out in surprise and happiness. "I was just hoping they would talk, I didn't expect them to get to this stage tonight. Hotch is a fast worker."

Morgan snorted. "This is Hotch we're talking about. When he's decided on something, he goes for it." His dark eyes danced with humor. "Looks like he decided on Emily."

"They'll be good for each other and maybe she can stop him from being such a cranky bastard all the time," Rossi added.

"And maybe Emily will finally feel comfortable enough to open up to someone," Reid added.

"All and all, a good night's work for the Good Witch," Garcia bragged.

Morgan threw an arm around the tech analyst. "You did good, Baby Girl. I don't know anyone else who could have pulled that off." He nodded towards Hotch's office where they could still see the couple kissing.

Garcia gave him a smug look. "Like I said, I can work magic."

**Fini.**


End file.
